


Crush(ing)

by sibley (ferns)



Category: Stargirl (TV 2020)
Genre: Bisexuality, Multi, Nonmonogamous Relationship, The Blue Valley Evil Swingers Club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26001553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferns/pseuds/sibley
Summary: Larry’s pretty sure Pat Dugan’s onto them, and that'll mean a probably-boring execution. Time for a bit of redirection.And if that redirection doesn't work, well... they'll still have some fun.
Relationships: Lawrence Crock/Pat Dugan, Lawrence Crock/Paula Crock, Pat Dugan/Barbara Whitmore, Paula Crock/Barbara Whitmore
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	Crush(ing)

**Author's Note:**

> Mike: did you fuck my dad, Sportsmaster?!
> 
> This is (somehow) a lighter fic, but we've got some allusions to Joey's death and therefore to child death, implied NSFW stuff, and of course the typical Crock brand of personal bubble invasion and sadism. "Swinging" is a completely normal and common form of non-monogamy but they, specifically, are making it _super_ fucking weird.

Larry Crock has a problem.

Technically, he always has problems, usually of the gym maintenance variety, or because Paula “accidentally” intimidated Bowin for allowing Artemis to get detention for rough-housing at school. But this is a different problem. This is a problem that could cause issues instead of entertainment. 

“I think Dugan’s onto us.”

The knife Paula throws hits the lower left thigh of the human-shaped target she’s practicing with. “Are you sure?”

“The signs are there. He hasn’t brought it up yet, but I’m pretty sure he’s getting close to figuring it out,” he sighs. “I _really_ don’t want to kill him.”

It’s standard protocol. The Injustice Society needs someone killed without it being particularly discreet? They send the two of them along to get the job done. That includes anybody who gets close to figuring out what Icicle’s stupid company is really a front for, anybody who tries to leave town while knowing too much, and anybody who starts poking around in places where they don’t belong.

Pat’s probably close to that first one, especially since his wife works for The American Dream. Maybe the third, too. Larry wouldn’t know, he’s hardly seen him for at least the past week and a half. Which just isn’t like him, because he likes to be punctual.

Paula throws the next knife. It sinks in neatly across from the other one in the opposite thigh. Thighs were always good for aiming. Legs in general, actually. It gave people more time to writhe around on the ground in agony. That’s part of why they’re Paula’s favorites to go for. People just assume she’s a bad shot, not deliberately toying with her prey. It makes them underestimate her accuracy.

“Then don’t.” She debates whether to aim for the gut or the shoulder with her next hit. “Jordan doesn’t have to know. You just want to play with him. You don’t need _my_ permission for that.”

“Guess not.” He grins. “Maybe I was just wondering if you wanted his wife.”

The smile on Paula’s face as she sinks the knife into the target’s neck is answer enough.

* * *

“Hiya, Pat.”

“Hey, Crusher.” Pat doesn’t look up even though the greeting is accompanied by the customary massive invasion of personal space. He’s expecting to have an arm thrown around his shoulders. The hand that carefully squeezes the back of his neck is what catches him off guard.

Apparently the same can’t be said of the hit he tries to land on Crusher’s ribs half on instinct using the wrench already in his hand, since he finds his wrist getting caught and pinned down back across his chest with little effort.

“Easy, buddy.” Pat can nearly _hear_ the smile in the guy’s voice as he says it. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Well, that’s absolutely a lie, but it’s a little difficult to think about that when he’s being practically hugged from behind and held relatively immobile. Especially since he can hardly see him. “Uh… what’re we doing?”

“Just checking in.” Crusher lets go of the back of his neck and of his arm—thank God—but stays where he is. He’s practically on top of him. It feels… weird. “Wanted to see if you were feeling up for a little chat.”

“Um.” Why the hell is he so close to him? “Sure, I guess. Let me finish up here, and then I’m free for the rest of the afternoon unless something comes up.” 

“Take your time.” Apparently Crusher has decided it is now appropriate to run his hand down Pat’s back. He stops before going too low but that doesn’t make it any less weird. “You don’t mind if I watch, right?”

Okay! Even weirder! Great! “Knock yourself out.”

Thankfully he backs off so Pat can actually do his job, but he’s right there every time he turns around or has to reach something. It’s a little bit creepy. A lot creepy. Every time he so much as glances in Crusher’s direction he has a huge smile on his face, which only enhances the weirdness of it all. It’s like he’s eating him alive with his eyes.

And… okay. Pat’s notoriously unobservant with the neurological diagnosis to back it up. But Barb’s not, and even _he_ noticed on his own after a while. It’s not like Crusher’s being subtle. He probably wouldn’t know what that meant if it smacked him in the face. After the third or fourth time he practically climbed on top of him while encouraging him to use the leg press, he got the picture.

It doesn’t bother him much. Sometimes the overt touching gets a little weird and a couple of times after workouts he’s been too overstimulated to put up with it, but (admittedly to his surprise) Crusher had always ended up backing off and leaving him to calm down on his own. He’d also completely understood the issue of Pat really not wanting to use the showers at the gym without even an explanation, which had also been nice. So… yeah. The guy’s obviously into him, but it’s just flirting and Barb’s okay with it and he doesn’t mind and judging by how Crusher kept acting like that even when in front of his wife (Paula?) he’s pretty sure she’s okay with it too so it’s not a problem.

This feels like it might be several steps beyond that.

He wipes his hands off on a rag even though the texture makes his skin crawl. “What did you want to talk about?”

Crusher rolls his shoulders back, still smiling. “How’re things with the wife?”

Okay. So this is definitely going in that direction. Cool. Just let him down easily and hope he takes it well. He doesn’t seem like the most emotionally stable guy around, so fingers crossed. “Good. Great. Uh, we’re thinking about taking a camping trip soon. Maybe even road-tripping all the way up to Yellowstone, see Old Faithful.”

“Nice. Paula and I took Artemis out there a little while ago. Did some hunting in Montana. Kid’s a natural with a bow, really takes after her mom,” Crusher says proudly. He looks Pat up and down a few more times. Okay, alright, still going. Not a big deal. He can head this off for sure. “Barbara take any interest in your cars?”

“Not really. But I guess, um, I don’t really know much about the fine details of her job, either, so… We still tell each other all about it, though. Everything.” He wipes his hands a few more times even though it makes the prickling under his skin get worse.

 _“Everything,_ huh?” Awesome, now he’s coming closer. Not that there was much ground to cover in the first place. He reaches over to rub Pat’s arm and corners him up against the car whose hood he just closed. “You know, Paula and I tell each other everything, too. We share a lot with each other.”

Pat’s brain short-circuits for a good ten seconds, then starts firing on all cylinders when he realizes Crusher’s knee is pressing in between his legs. “Ah, buddy, I don’t know that this is—I mean—”

He wants him to stop more out of obligations to Barb than because of sheer attraction, because Crusher—stupid nickname, but hey, if that’s what he wants to be called, he’ll always use it no matter how silly it may be—is definitely attractive. Years of working with superheroes made him appreciate people who worked hard on their own to become strong, sue him. That kind of crap was difficult! 

But Barb’s not here, and he won’t do this kind of thing without her. Even if she’s okay with it in theory, because _yes,_ he and Barbara have had… talks, before. About this kind of thing. They’re two mature adults who can have adult discussions about things they look for in relationships. It’s not actually that weird. However, that was meant to be decided as a couple on a case-by-case basis. Just him making the call? That’s not what they decided on.

Maybe Crusher _does_ have some formerly unseen ability to gauge societal cues, because he takes a step back even if he doesn’t let go. “Not into it?”

Pat tries to stop having a heart attack. “I need to talk to Barb.”

“Go ahead, call her now.” He leans back in a bit. Okay. Christ, this is so bizarre. What is it about the people in this town? There’s Ms. Burman, there’s Crusher, there’s the way it’s pretty clear Mr. Mahkent’s got _some_ kind of non-professional interest in Barb at least according to her… “I’ve got time. _She_ might be a little busy, though. Paula texted while you were checking the battery to let me know she’d gotten to her office.”

Oh. _Oh._

“So you both—” Pat stops when his voice comes out way too squeaky. Like he’s a kid again. “I mean, uh—so the two of you are in that kind of… um, _alternative_ lifestyle? And both of you are interested in… uh… I mean, um…”

“We don’t like to put labels on it,” Crusher says easily. “But it’s a team sport. We just like to have fun with other people and feel like we shouldn’t let our marriage stop us. There are a couple people in town we’ve played with, and there’s one couple—” Something dark crosses his face and for a second the grip he has on Pat’s arms becomes uncomfortably tight. “There used to be a couple we’d full swap with. But it’s been a while.”

(It’d been such a waste, finding out Jordan killed William and Denise. And their son, too, but that was less important. None of the rest of them were any fun, not like they’d been. 

Jordan spent too much time moping about his dead wife. Anaya and her husband had never wanted to get involved before his death, and they clashed too much with her anyway. Steven was just… no. Dragon King was laughable at best, and Paula found his weird build-a-wife too annoying. Grundy was more of a pet than a team member. Henry was a freak in the way they _didn’t_ like. The Shade, before he defected, barely even seemed human half the time. While that didn’t mean they’d _never_ done anything with the rest of the team… the Zaricks had been special.

Of course they’d fought with them at times. Nobody on the Injustice Society appreciated the thrill of the hunt quite like they did. The only one who came close was Dragon King, and again—that was a laughable idea. But they’d been willing to put that aside, or at least William had been. Denise had always been more hesitant about discussing her husband’s business.

Then Jordan had gotten it into his head that he needed to prove he was still the alpha male of their arrangement and had gone and killed whatever his name was knowing damn well it would mean the only source of entertainment Paula and Larry had would need to die right along with him. It was selfish, that’s what it was.

Ah, well. The past was in the past. If this works out, they won’t miss the Zaricks and their entertainment value at all. At least until Jordan finally achieves his dream. Maybe he’ll let them keep Pat and Barbara around. Let them skip the brainwashing treatment. Probably wishful thinking. The product of even more boredom. Thanks for that, Jordan.)

Pat swallows. He’s a few inches shorter than Crusher, and _boy_ does he feel it right now. “Barb and I have talked about it,” he offers. “But we’ve never done anything like it.” He pauses, then amends that. “We’ve never done anything like it as a couple.”

No point in mentioning that he’s been considering bringing up Ms. Burman to Barb. Mostly just to say that he felt pretty bad for her and that she probably needed their help to get out of the situation she was in, but also to discuss the… _that._

“Never done anything as a _couple,_ huh?” Apparently that was an invitation for Crusher to come in closer. Seriously, what is it about the people in this town? “You dog, I bet you got up to all kinds of stuff when you were a bachelor.”

“More Barb than me,” he admits. Which is true. Yeah, he’d been the no-strings-attached third a few times for one of the couples he’d worked closely with, but it hadn’t lasted long—Greg and Justin had been nothing but respectful about letting it end completely once he got into a committed relationship with someone who didn’t want to be involved in that. Barb, on the other hand, had mentioned being part of a pretty big club awhile back with a weird card theme, before Courtney had been born and while she was little. Not that he knows tons of details. It had never been super relevant to the present day.

Crusher wolf-whistles. “Good for her! Paula was a real lioness when she was younger. Not that she’s lost her bite.” He winks. “Y’know?”

Half dazed, Pat nods. He’s not entirely convinced this is really happening. He hasn’t even had the chance to call Barb yet, like he wanted to the second he felt Crusher’s hands on him.

“I get it, though,” Crusher continues. “Like I said, this is a team event. Can’t go jumping right into big decisions without approval from all your players, right?” He leans in even more. Pat hadn’t even been aware that was a possibility. “But sometimes you need to make a risky call.”

Thankfully, Pat’s phone rings from his back pocket, happily rescuing him at least temporarily from this very awkward and strange situation.Crusher finally lets go and moves back completely as Pat fumbles to get out his phone and answer the call, looking remarkably smug.

It’s Barb, because of course it is. Pat’s mouth is so dry it takes a few seconds before he can get out a slightly strangled “Hi, honey.”

 _“Hi, sweetie.”_ There’s a sound like papers getting shuffled around and another muffled voice says something inaudible on the other end of the line. _“Paula Brooks is in my office asking about the two of us potentially having sex with her and her husband. Do you know anything about that?”_

Somehow the steady way she says it makes Pat feel calmer. If Barb can handle this without getting too outwardly flustered, so he can he. Although it may be a little late for that on his end. “Um. Yeah, uh—Larry Crock is—”

“Crusher,” he interrupts to correct him before giving him two thumbs-ups and yet another blindingly bright smile.

“Right, yeah. Crusher’s here. At the garage. Talking about, uh, the same thing.” Pat glances back at him. He lifts his thumbs-ups higher. “And I said I couldn’t give him a definitive answer about, um, _that._ Not without talking to you first.”

 _“I said the same thing.”_ There’s a long pause. He guesses that she’s probably covering the receiver to talk to Paula. Then she’s back. _“Paula’s outside my office now. Could you ask her husband for some privacy?”_

“Yeah. Just a second.” Honestly, Pat has no idea if Crusher will actually do it, which… if he doesn’t, that’s pretty much an instant dealbreaker. If he actually were going to give the offer real consideration, which he won’t until he knows Barb is doing the same thing. “Hey, Crusher, could you step out for a minute? I gotta talk to Barb.”

“Take all the time you need. It’s a big choice to make. Just don’t get in your own head about it.” Crusher rolls his shoulders back and heads to duck out the garage door. “And remember, you’re still a member at the gym, and saying no won’t change a damn thing about that! We can go back to just being gym buddies if that’s what you want. Good luck!”

And then he’s outside, leaving Pat to squeeze his phone so tightly his knuckles go white and tell Barb that they’re basically alone now.

 _“I know talking about this over the phone isn’t ideal,”_ she says hesitantly. _“But I’ve got a big meeting in half an hour and I didn’t know if there’d be time to head over to you. How are you feeling?”_

“I don’t know,” he admits. He drums his fingers on the hood of the car he’s still leaning against. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. He’s attractive, I told you he was attractive when I first met him, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. Is that it? How do _you_ feel?”

 _“I don’t think you’re supposed to feel anything. I guess I feel…”_ She laughs into her hand despite herself. _“I’m sorry, I just—I realized part of why I feel weird because I expected it to be_ Jordan _who would ask me about something like this. Not a woman I hardly know.”_

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting his wife to talk to you. I didn’t even know she was in the lifestyle before he told me she was going to your office to see you. I thought Crusher was just… weird. I mean, you’ve met him.” Pat shrugs even though she can’t see it. “I don’t know. I know we’ve talked about it. I just didn’t expect it to ever happen. At least not here in Blue Valley.”

 _“So does that mean you don’t want to try it?”_ Barb asks. Her voice is free of judgement, thank god.

He takes a deep breath. That’s the thing, isn’t it? Because when he searches himself, he does want to try it. At least with Crusher. Maybe not his wife, he’d have to get to know her better first. But he does still appreciate the work Crusher’s put in to be at pretty peak physical performance. He’s an attractive guy and for all his invasions of personal space he seems like he actually respects Pat when he puts down firm boundaries.

It sounds stupid to admit it, but he _does_ think he’s, um, sexy. In an intense nightmare way. He imagines being in a relationship or _arrangement_ of some kind with him would be like going swimming in a river known to be populated by bull sharks while wearing a suit of armor. Or like skydiving and waiting until the last possible second to open your parachute. Still very dangerous, but in a fun way that meant you weren’t likely to get hurt unless you did something else monumentally stupid at the same time.

“...No,” Pat sighs. God, he’s glad they had a conversation about this a few months after they started dating. And that they both have some experience. That may not make it less awkward, but it does make it easier to grin and bear it. “I think I _do_ want to. But if _you_ don’t then I’ll hang up right now and tell Crusher to get lost.”

Barb hums to herself as she thinks it over. It’s not technically a new situation for her, not in the bare-bones concept, but she’s not as young as she used to be. Does she even have the time to test out something like this, in between work and the kids? Especially since Jordan’s been involving her in so much at the company. She’s not sure. But… _“I think I want to try it too. Or at least test the waters a little. We should talk about it more tonight, when it’s just the two of us, but I think I want to try it.”_

Pat realizes he’s been pacing for the last minute or so and stops. “So what should I tell him? What are you going to tell Paula?”

 _“Just… that, I guess. That we’re going to talk about it some more first, but we’re open to trying it.”_ There are some more shuffling sounds. It helps to categorize papers while organizing her thoughts. It makes compartmentalizing easier.

Pat tries to take deep breaths. “So we’re really gonna do this, huh?”

 _“Yeah. I think we are.”_ Knowing she can fall back on her previous experience helps. Knowing she’s doing it with Pat, someone she trusts, _really_ helps. _“I’ll see you tonight, okay? Love you.”_

“Love you too,” he says automatically, and listens to the little sound of her hanging up.

Oh, god. They’re doing this. They’re really gonna do this. Or at least they’re gonna _try_ to do this. The more he thinks about it, the more he’s sure about wanting to, but it’s a big deal, right? It’s normal to be nervous. Really, really nervous.

He takes a few more deep breaths, and goes out to tell Crusher what they’ve decided on.

* * *

It really is such a shame, when they get the call that tells them they’ll need to dispose of the Whitmore-Dugan family. They proved to be so very entertaining, and they’d gone to all that trouble to redirect them from finding out the truth anyway.

They’d tested the waters with a soft swap a night or so later. Paula had especially enjoyed spending most of her dinner date with Barb privately fantacizing about how she was going to break the news to Jordan that despite his best efforts _she_ had gotten to Barbara Whitmore first. Things had escalated properly from there. They’d had so much fun with them. 

But it’s been a long time since they had a chance to _properly_ hunt superheroes. When they were stealing those satellite components, their targets were largely children playing with their parents’ toys. Probably their parents’, anyway. None of them were totally clear on that. Regardless, they weren’t _actually_ superheroes. And from what Jordan said, Barbara’s not one either. Pat, however… they remember him. A sidekick just isn’t the same as an honest-to-god superhero, but it’s the closest they’ve got.

Besides, it’s not every day Jordan lets them play with their food, and they’ve been given permission to take as long as they want, as long as they get the job done.

It may not be what they were expecting, but it’ll be a way for them to have fun together all the same.

Well. _They’ll_ be having fun. Pat and Barbara will be running for their lives.

Larry’s problems certainly have a way of straightening themselves out in the end. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @augustheart on tumblr and I am six inches away from becoming one of those Snyder cut campaigners but for the deleted scene in episode ten where Larry invites Pat to come stay at his house. If it's not released as a DVD extra I will be storming DCUniverse headquarters and I encourage all of you to join me.


End file.
